Chapter 25

The restaurant was on the second floor, and we got there at exactly the right time. Within moments we were seated on the patio, and we’d evidently just missed the lunch rush. Though bag-laden shoppers were power walking by, the restaurant itself was fairly empty. Two young women and a small towheaded child were seated at the only other occupied table out here, and they looked to be finishing up. The little boy couldn’t have been more than four, but he was tapping away at a tablet with confidence. The blonde woman, whom I assumed was his mother because the resemblance was uncanny, kept looking over at him whenever he wanted her attention, giving him an indulgent smile.

After we placed our orders—a baked pasta dish for me, pork chops for him—Noah scooted his chair a little closer to mine so he was right at the corner. Then he reached out and took my hand.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he said softly, tracing the lines on my palm with a gentle touch.